


Feral

by FireflyCity



Series: What Makes a Family - Until Dawn Pack Au [4]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: AU, All about those #implications, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Wolves, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Minor Violence, Pack AU, Pack Dynamics, Werewolf, Werewolf AU, Werewolves, Wolf AU, Wolf Pack, Wolves, wolf family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7232362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflyCity/pseuds/FireflyCity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She fought because they gave her no other choice. Maybe it was something in her blood, some part of the valley that never let go of her. But the fight followed. No matter where Emily went, no matter who she met in passing, it all ended the same way. With barred teeth and flashing claws. In blood.</p><p>An au where they’re all werewolves and in a pack because I like wolves. Part of my "What Makes a Family - Until Dawn Pack Au" 4/8</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feral

Oo0oO

_Emily_

_Fight._

The word appeared like an old echo in the back of her mind. _Fight because you know how_. Because fighting was the only thing any of them knew how to do. Before they knew how to hunt, pups knew how to fight. With teeth and nails and tooth and claw. In the brutally honest way only children of the moon knew.

_Fight._

It came in the form of a growl, slipping past her lips even as she was pushed again to the ground. _Fight because you’re good at it_. Because she always had been. She was better than all of them. They had a bad habit of underestimating her. Because she was small: frame thin, fur slick, better suited for night hunting then fighting. Because she was female: naturally weaker, in many senses of the word. Because she was a _bitch_. And no way someone with an attitude _that_ bad wasn’t compensating for something.

_Fight_

She shifted ever so slightly, feigning defeat, preparing for a strike. _Because you know what happens to the omega._ Because weakness wasn’t just frowned upon in their pack. It was eliminated. The lucky ones had it trained out of them, were pushed to their breaking point time and time again until they no longer knew the meaning of the word pain. The rest were abandoned. Left to the snow to starve. Or the river to sink. She’d lost a brother to the latter.

_Fight._

Emily coiled. _Because losing isn’t an option._

In a flurry of movement, she twisted, her spine rolling under the weight of her opponent and setting him off balance. It gave Emily the opportunity she needed. Lunging upwards, she clamped her teeth around the wolf’s neck. She bit down hard. Her opponent howled in agony. Emily didn’t even flinch. In fact, she tightened her grip, sinking her teeth further and further into his flesh. Harder and harder, the smell of kindred blood filling her lungs and pooling over her jaw. And then, she stopped.

She didn’t have to, not technically. But in pack battles, killing your opponent was usually considered poor sportsmanship. Usually. Delicately, Emily released her grip, allowing the wolf to slip from her grasp, where he hit the ground in a slump. He was alive, and would live. But only barely.

As he collapsed, a chorus of howls arose, a chant of victory in her honor. She couldn’t bring herself to feel honored if she tried.

“Well done Em!” Tom, the 3rd rank, approached her cheerily, playfully bumping her side.

She tried her best to hide a grimace. She may have won, but that didn’t mean her opponent had gone down without a fight. The “fight” would rear its head tomorrow as a set of new scars across her flank.

 “You really knocked old Bruce down a peg huh?”

“Whatever.” Emily brushed him off. On a normal day, such behavior might have warranted punishment, given their rank difference.  But her victory had just moved Emily up to 4th rank, second sentinel. If there was ever a time to give Tom a piece of her mind, it was now.

Emily thought to make good on that, but was distracted as Thalia, 10th rank, moved onto the battlefield as well, toward the gasping Bruce. Thalia was their pack’s medic, being the only one among them to receive formal training as a nurse in human society. She was the only one in the pack who didn’t have to fight for position, permanently holding the rank just above omega. Somewhat bitterly, Emily also pondered if that didn’t have something to do with the fact that she was the alpha’s daughter.

“Bruce.” Thalia rushed to his side, nosing his wound urgently.

He snapped once at her, more for his own pride then anything.

She seemed to disregard him, instead moving to inspect the wound. “This is bad.” Her eyes flicked over the torn flesh, then over towards Emily. Emily ignored her. Thalia snorted, then turned her attention back to Bruce. “You’ll live, but only if we get this treated soon.”

Bruce only growled. Then, seeming to honor the medic’s request, he began to rise, head lifting off the ground in a pained effort. Emily expected him to let Thalia take him. That’s what they usually did, the defeated. If they could still speak, they’d usually call for a rematch as well.

Bruce, as usual, surprised her.

“Bitch.” She heard him push the word past his throat. ”Stone. Cold. Bitch.”

He was talking to her. Of course. Unflinching, she turned to him. “Me?”

“Who else?” He wheezed out the words, moving to stand. “Thalia? Huh, at least she would have the dignity to not fight _dirty_.”

“Hey.” Tom moved to intervene. Emily ignored him, flaring her nostrils.

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard her fighting style described that way. Dirty. Because it was. A standard fight was all front battles, barred teeth snap-snapping at exposed necks, front claws raised to swipe. A good battle would allow some solid tackles as well, rolling in the snow and dirt to see who came out on top. First one left belly up quickly becoming the loser. Emily learned early she couldn’t win that way. Not often enough at least. She couldn’t match the males in strength, couldn’t beat them off as effectively in straightforward combat. So she fought dirty.

She went low early, always. Slipped in and out of their guard like moonlight through the trees. Sliced hard at their ankles with her claws, brought them down low. Bit once, twice maybe. Bit hard. A lot of older wolves tended to fight battles of attrition, wore their opponents down with courtesy swipes across the torso. She figured that was essentially taking it easy on them.

“Sorry if you don’t like the way I fight.” She snapped once at Bruce, testing him. Daring him. “Or is it just that you don’t like losing to a _girl_?”

He growled, the hair on the back of his neck rising. He knew she was baiting him, he just couldn’t help falling for it. Emily readied herself for his attack.

“Enough!” The voice cracked through the clearing like a gunshot. In an instant, the woods fell silent, all pretenses of a second fight dropping in a heartbeat.

 _He_ entered the battlefield like a general. Ears up, tail high, a scowl plastered across his jagged teeth. Varick, 1 st rank, pack alpha. Beside him, his wife, the beta.

Emily felt them approach more than saw them. They came quick and silent, like a shadow over the moon. The pack retreated as they passed, a half-cower half-bow to wave them through. Some of it was for respect. Most was for fear.

The pair stopped between Emily and Bruce. The alpha looked slowly, deliberately between each side, his teeth flashed like a challenge.

“Bruce.” The name slid off his tongue like an insult. “You’ve made your point, if you know what’s good for you’ll stand down.”

The injured 5th rank retreated slightly. “But sir I-”

“Quiet!” Bruce was silenced with a sharp growl from the alpha. “You are in _no_ place to be making arguments right now. You lost, try to accept your defeat with at least a sliver of pride.”

Bruce shifted, clearly looking like he had more to say.

Varick, catching this, took a step in his direction. “Still looking for a fight?” A wicked smile spread across his face. “If you’re so inclined I’d be more than happy to take you on myself.”

Bruce didn’t meet his eyes.

Varick’s expression darkened. “That’s what I thought.” He made to turn. Before he got through the motion however, he stepped hard to the side, and right into Bruce. The 5th rank went reeling, gasping in pain from his still-open wound. Medic though she was, Thalia had just enough sense not to rush to him.

Slowly, the alpha turned back to Emily, who stood her ground. She knew enough not to directly meet his gaze.

“Good work. I expect a lot more from you.” He leaned in. On instinct, she bared her neck. “ _Don’t disappoint_.”

Oo0oO

She didn’t.

 After all, fighting was the one thing she was good at. The only thing.

That’s what they all said, if begrudgingly. She was a bitch, but she could _fight_. Better than the beta even. Though that was a rumor among the lower ranks. The ones with nothing to lose. The ones who would get beaten regardless of whether or not they kept their mouths shut. Rumor had it she was to _be_ the next beta. Tom the next alpha. She almost liked the idea. Almost.

Oo0oO

 _Fight_.

It was their creed. _Fight because you know how._ But knowing wasn’t reason. It was an ability. A means.

 _Fight_.

It was all they knew, what they were taught from birth. _Fight because you’re good at it_. She was. But that didn’t mean she had to. Just that she could.

 _Fight_.

It wasn’t up for debate. _Because you know what happens to the omega._ But she also knew what happened to 9th, 8th, 7th rank. Not being last didn’t make you safe. It just saved you a few scars.

 _Fight_.

She had to. _Because losing isn’t an option._ But running was.

And that’s what she did. In the dead of night, she slipped out, past their farthest perimeter, darting between trees like a shadow. Gone like a whisper on the wind. No note. No warning. It was safer that way. After all, Varick would send someone to chase her, when he found out. The punishment he’d issue himself. All she had to do was make it far enough.

And she did. By the time she left the valley, any of Varick’s pursuers would be far too late. But it wasn’t anyone Varick sent who stopped her in her tracks.

“Emily.” He said her name like a plea.

She felt herself stop cold. Slowly, she turned back, knowing who she would find even before she completed the motion. “Tom.”

So she hadn’t been crazy. The shadows across the underbrush had been his.

“A little far from the usual hunting grounds, huh?” He shifted his weight between his front two paws.

 “Tom.” Emily flared her nostrils at him. “You know as well as I do that I’m not hunting.”

“Just a run then.” He took a step toward her, his voice strained with a feeble sort of hope. “Getting some fresh air.”

“ _Tom_.”

He sunk a little. Feeling the weight of a truth he wasn’t keen to accept. “You’re leaving.”

She nodded.

“Heh.” Tom scraped a paw against the ground. “I thought so.”

Emily saw where this was going. She sighed. “I’ve already made up my mind, you’re not going to talk me out of it.”

Tom frowned. “But I can’t let you leave.”

Emily started. “You’re going to try to stop me?”

For a moment, he looked uncertain. It was the sort of hesitation the alpha would have punished him for. “The pack needs you.”

“But I don’t need _the pack_.” Emily growled. She didn’t, that she knew with certainty. And whatever lay waiting for her in the woods couldn’t be any worse then what she left behind in that valley.

“You think you can make it alone out there?” He motioned out into the woods with his muzzle. “Emily, without a pack? You’ll die.”

“You think I can’t handle myself.” Her snarl deepened. She’d expected this resistance. But it was starting to feel like a betrayal.

“Emily, don’t be unreasonable. You’re better off with the pack. I _know_ it.” Tom insisted.

She felt a tremble pass through her. “Then you don’t _know_ me!”

“Emily.” He retreated slightly. The hurt in his voice was clear.

But she didn’t care. “I’m leaving.” She turned her back to him, made to run.

He was fast, Tom always had been. He moved around to block her before she had a chance. “I won’t let you.”

Emily felt her throat catch. A pain like betrayal. Like heartbreak. “So you’ll fight me?”

He did.

Oo0oO

It was over almost as quickly as it started. After all, only one of them was fighting to kill.

Oo0oO

 _Fight_.

Because they gave her no other choice. Maybe it was something in her blood, some part of the valley that never let go of her. But the fight followed. No matter where she went, no matter who she met in passing, it all ended the same way. With barred teeth and flashing claws. In blood.

The packs wouldn’t have her. She was too wild, too feral for them. And the ones willing to accept her nature were too wild for her. She didn’t mind fighting for her rank, it was second nature to her at this point. But she was done spilling kindred blood. Done killing for someone else’s agenda. Any battles she fought from then on out were own.

And she’d done her fair share of fighting. Packs, loners, anyone who looked at her wrong, or even looked at her at all.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. Although that’s what’d she tell anyone she was trying to intimidate. Emily would have loved to cast herself as the stoic loner, one of the packless wanderers of the northern mountains. But that wasn’t her, it never had been.

Her pack’s concerns were, as she predicted, were mostly unfounded. Survival proved second nature to her, she was as good of a hunter as she was a fighter. The danger, too was nothing, she could almost always fight her way out, and outrun anything else. But it wasn’t starvation, or the danger she had to fear. It was being alone.

This, Emily realized soon after she’d left her pack. Being alone did something to her, put her on edge. It was easier to set her off, harder to calm her back down. It was part of the reason she’d been in so many fights. Without someone to keep her in check she was a storm, a hurricane inside a girl’s body. It didn’t matter who got caught up in the destruction. Just so long as someone did.

So, despite herself, Emily tried to spend as much time in packs as she could. Let them keep her in check. She tried to fake nice for them, or fake cruelty. Whatever they wanted, whatever they needed to make her stay. But she always ended up the same way. Angry. Fresh from a fight. Alone.

Oo0oO

For months Emily drifted. By chance, she ended up with a younger pack. Kids like herself, born wolves and turned alike. Remnants of dissolved packs and strays sick of facing the wilds alone. And, of all things, female-led. When she first got wind of it, she thought it was a joke. She actually laughed when she was invited to join, an offer issued by a flirty lower-rank with patchy brown fur.

“C’mon, I’m sure you’re tired of wandering these woods alone.” The wolf in question, Matt, pressed her.

“Better alone than with a group of children.” She snorted. From what she heard, she actually would have been the oldest as well.

If nothing else, he was persistent. “What have you got to lose?”

That was the thing, she didn’t. And while she countered his pleas as best she could, he wore her down.

Oo0oO

 _Fight_.

For the first time, she didn’t have to.

“Where would you have me rank?”

“Rank?” Sam, the alpha, looked confused when Emily asked.

“You know, rank. Like alpha, beta, omega sorta thing?” There was no way she didn’t know.

“Beyond immediate chain of command we play it pretty loosely.” Sam, leaning against a couch in human form, shrugged. “Besides, you just got here, don’t you think we should wait a bit?”

“Wait?” Emily was almost offended. “There’s no need to wait. If it’s a question of skill I’m fine now, I’ll have no problem. But you have to test me first.”

“You have something to prove?” Mike, the beta, chimed in. He’d been hovering ever since she got there, the whole time with a horrendous smug across his face.

“Of Course!” Didn’t they? They were wolves after all, this was a pack. And in a pack, the pecking order is everything.

 

Emily felt herself come dangerously close to changing back into wolf form. _No, No. Not here. If you can’t control yourself they’ll kick you out. And it’s too early, too early…_

Sam frowned, seeming to notice her change. Without taking her eyes off Emily, she spoke. “Mike leave.”

“What?”

Sam shot him a look. Sensing she was serious, he backed off.

Emily eyed the alpha suspiciously.

Sam was steady. Almost unnervingly. “You want to know your ranking?”

Sensing a shift in the air, Emily nodded.

“4th rank, of 7 total. Second sentinel. Just below Chris.” She indicated toward the blonde with her eyes. He was gushing over some redhead in the corner of the lodge.

Emily felt a prickle in her skin. “But you haven’t seen me fight-“

“Don’t need to.”

Emily stopped. “What?”

“I said I don’t need to.”

“Then how do you know I’m 4th rank?” Emily snarled. Sam hadn’t seen her fight, hadn’t seen her hunt. Besides the invitation and brief introductions, there’d been no assessment, no test beyond casual questions about her past. How did Sam know she wasn’t better than Chris? Better than Mike? Better than her? Or even worse? There was no way Sam could tell at a glance. And, people had always had a bad habit of underestimating her.

“You think I need to see you fight to rank you?” Sam raised an eyebrow. Then, calmly, she shook her head. “Your rank isn’t about how well you fight, how well you hunt. It’s not about strength, intelligence, anything that makes you better than anyone else. It’s about your ability to look out for the pack. For how well you assume command of yourself and others. It’s about your ability to make sacrifices, not how well but how whole-heartedly you’ll fight for your alpha as equally as your own beta.

I don’t need to see your aggression, or how well you can track prey through a snowstorm. All I need to know is how willing you are to stand for this pack.”

“But it’s not even mine! Not really.”

“Not _yet_.” Sam corrected her. “But I have a feeling it will be. If you let it.”

Oo0oO

 _Fight_.

Sam never asked her to. Not alone anyways. And never against anyone else in the pack.

 _Fight_.

The urge didn’t go away. And Emily would have plenty more when Jess arrived barely 2 weeks later. But now she was fighting for things she believed in. For people she cared for.

 _Fight_.

If it came down to it, she could outmaneuver Chris. Use his size against him, weave her way through his defenses and claim victory in a fight. She was less certain against Mike and Sam.

But the thing is, she didn’t want to. Fight them. The clan needed them, Sam especially. _Emily,_ needed them. All of them.

 _Fight_.

Because she knew how. Because she was good at it. Because she could.

Because she had something worth protecting.

Oo0oO

**Author's Note:**

> So I cheated a little bit with the pack dynamics in this chapter but I'll write it off as Sam having a different point of view on how pack ranking works. Listen I just want them all to be a nice happy wolf family is that too much to ask.  
> Part 4/8 Thanks for sticking around, expect part 5 soon(ish?)


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